


We take care of family

by fckyeahgallavich



Series: Aevitas [5]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bipolar Ian, Depressed Ian, Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Domestic Mickey Milkovich, Gallavich, Parenthood, Shameless, gallavich parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 00:33:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11280042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fckyeahgallavich/pseuds/fckyeahgallavich
Summary: How does Abbi react the first time she witnesses Ian's meds slip and he is bedridden from depression? Can Mickey handle this on his own? How can he help her make sense of this?





	We take care of family

“Daddy?” Abbi’s sweet voice rang from the living room archway.

“Mm?” Mickey hummed in reply, signing a check for the electric bill at the dining room table.

“Is Dad sick?” she asked. He looked up then.

“Is he still not up?” She shook her head. He tapped his phone which announced it was almost noon.

“Should I make him some chicken soup?” She suggested already making her way to the kitchen. Despite the circumstances, Mickey smiled. Abbi was a very considerate and independent nine year old, and it was a near-daily ritual to thank whatever was listening that he agreed to adopt this child.

“Couldn’t hurt, Squirt. I’ll see what’s up.” Even though he already knew. Ian’s meds had maintained mostly over the past decade but this still happened every now and again, especially if Ian suddenly has to switch brands, which he hadn’t and so was why he hadn’t been anticipating this. This new brand has been working for the past three years with no hiccups so this would be the first time Abbi noticed anything about Ian’s disorder.

He stepped into his and Ian’s bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. Taking in ian’s stiff form, he could tell the redhead was not only awake but that Mickey had interrupted something.

He slowly, but purposefully stepped around the bed to where Ian was curled up. Parking it in a nook made by the bedside table in the wall, Mickey prepared himself for an emotional one-sided talk. 

“Hey man, it’s noon.” He quietly announced. As he took in Ian’s face he realized he had interrupted something after all. Ian had been crying. Hard. Ian breathed out harshly, squeezed his eyes shut and curled his head so Mickey couldn’t see his face. Mickey also exhaled sharply, not expecting to see his husband so distraught.

“Want to get up?” Ian remained silent. “Abbi asked about you… thinks you’re sick.” More silence. “She’s making you soup right now… thinking it’s a fucking cold or something…” He couldn’t control his voice as well as he’d like, but seeing Ian’s puffy face had unsettled him. 

There wasn’t exactly a technique to doing this and Ian had not been bedridden in a really long time. Usually, he had a goal to reach by talking to him. Making sure Ian knew he wasn’t alone, asking him to get up, wanting him to just talk to him… something to accomplish to show progress out of the low. This time, he wanted Ian to understand something: that Mickey needed him… He couldn’t explain the bipolar to her himself. Hell, they’d hoped that his symptoms would be mostly in control so they wouldn’t have to explain… At least until she was older. Never knowing how long these episodes would last, Mickey’s heart and gut twisted. He needed Ian to help him explain all of this and the thought of talking to her about it by himself freaked him out. 

Ian’s tears were a good sign. It meant he was aware of the hurt this would cause and felt helpless to change it–and guilty for what he considered being a burden. Though it may seem strange to be grateful for the tearful and guilty depression, it was better than the “these pills aren’t working anyway so I may as well ditch them” depression. Mickey hated those fits even more than these ones because those lows were longer and angrier and typically led to Mickey having to drag Ian to a clinic somewhere. These ones however, just broke his heart to witness. 

He brushed his hand through Ian’s hair consolingly. At his touch, Ian crumbled and tried–and failed–to hide it. 

“Can you at least try to get up? For me?” Mickey’s voice accidentally cracked. It was embarrassing how many emotional reactions this man could pull out of him. Ian remained still. “Well then if not for me, then at least for our daughter–” Ian flipped over so quickly he almost took Mickey’s hand with him. “Really? Come on, she doesn’t need to see this!” Ian’s bare back faced him, blanket having fallen to his waist when he tossed. Mickey just stared at his distant body for a moment, collecting his patience. “Ian, please it’s not even that she can’t understand. I know she can… but I don’t want her to have to understand. Or at the very least if she has to know I don’t want to have to tell her alone. We’re supposed to handle this shit together.” Ian shivered but didn’t move to cover himself. Mickey sighed and crawled into bed behind his husband, covering them both with the blanket. While usually Ian would recoil away, this time he allowed himself to be held. “I love you Ian,” Mickey whispered. Ian’s muscles relaxed a bit. “Please… please get up…” Ian shifted a bit, almost as though defiantly snuggling down. 

“Your daughter is going to try to feed you, can you at least try? I know you said it feels impossible to do anything when you’re like this, but I know you can for her.” He held his breath a moment, willing Ian to hear him and wake up. When he remained silent, Mickey couldn’t hold the tears back at Ian’s defeated posture. He knew Ian heard him but was convinced he couldn’t respond.

A knock sounded gently from the door.

“Daddy, the soup is hot.” Abbi called from the other side. Fuck. 

“Okay Abbi, give me a minute.” Mickey replied as evenly has he could. She wouldn’t leave at first. She stood at the door for several moments before Mickey saw her shadow disappear and heard her retreating footsteps. Mickey rubbed on Ian’s tense shoulders one more attempt to get through to him. 

“Please… you don’t even have to pretend to be happy, just sit up at least so we can talk to her.” Ian just tugged the blanket closer. Mickey nodded solemnly allowing two more tears to escape, then pinched his eyes to stop the flow. He sniffed once, kissed his husband’s back, and rolled out of bed.

“I love you Ian. I’ll check back in an hour.” Mickey whispered from the door, his heart broken at the look on Ian’s face as he curled under himself. He could feel the guilt radiating off Ian, but knew nothing he did or said would change it. Mickey left the room, closing the door gently behind him. He schooled his expression and sat back down at the dining room table.

“Is he going to come out?” Abby asked innocently, ladling some soup into a bowl. Mickey turned in his seat to face her.

“Not right now, he’s still too sick.” She frowned, but grabbed a spoon and set the bowl in front of Mickey. He smiled sadly at her she wrapped her arms around his neck. He hugged her back squeezing her shoulder lightly. 

“Does his tummy hurt her something?” She asked on to his shoulder. 

“No, it’s a different sickness. His mind gets sick sometimes and makes him sad.” He explained as simply as he could. She pulled back and grinned. 

“I can cheer him up!” She cried excitedly, trying to break from Mickey’s hold. He pulled her back though and shook his head. 

“I’m sorry Abbi… it’s not that kind of sadness. His brain is making him sad not anything going on. You can check on him soon, but right now let’s just have some lunch.” She frowned, but nodded and headed back to the pot on the stove to scoop a portion out for herself.

xxxxxx  
As soon as an hour passed, Abbi leapt from the table.

"Abbi!" Mickey called. She halted just outside the door. "Gently, okay?" She nodded and slowly opened the door. Mickey also stood and waited by the door as she faced her Dad. She inched her way in, Mickey shadowing behind.

"Dad?" Abbi asked quietly. From where Mickey stood at the door he could see Ian's distressed silhouette curled into Mickey's side of the bed, clutching Mickey's pillow. This was the part that always bewildered him; Ian frequently cuddled Mickey's pillow on Mickey's side of the bed as though longing for him--but if and when he was physically there trying to be encouraging or affectionate--to show Ian he wasn't angry with him or whatever he had likely convinced himself--Ian shut him out. It was the most frustrating thing. And for the life of him, Mickey could never figure it out. "Dad are you okay?" Ian's eyes remained closed. "Daddy says your brain makes you sad sometimes and that I can't help..." She crouched by the bed and ran her fingers through his red hair. "Dad, is that true?" Ian hugged the pillow closer and covered his face with it. Mickey's heart was ripping apart, shredding itself. He always hated the wait for his episodes to be over because that was literally all you could do: wait. He hated being around Ian when he was like this and couldn't bear being away from him. Usually, he would stay by Ian's side for a couple hours at a time, rubbing his back, whispering fond memories to him, confessing all of the secret thoughts he had back when he was still trying to pretend Ian wasn't the love of his life--when he thought he'd forever be content with Ian being a warm mouth and nothing more. He would stay by Ian's side until he couldn't take the silence anymore, but even so he would always leave the room with an "I love you, I'll be back soon." 

Though it pained him for Abbi to do the same, he would allow her five more minutes.

"Dad, it's really pretty outside today. Can I open a window so you can see the pretty sun?" Ian shook his head. "Can you look at me Dad? I really miss you." He shuddered but after a weighted pause, looked up at her, eyes bleary. She smiled at him.

"Hi, Dad." He grinned. An infinitesimal rise on the right side, but a grin nonetheless. 

"Hi, Abs." He croaked. Mickey's stomach liquefied, his knees buckling. 

"Can you get up?" She asked. "Or just sit up?" Ian's smile faltered, and then he shook his head confidently. "Can I do my homework in here with you? You don't have to help me or anything, I just don't want you to be alone." Ian just stared at her, not turning her down but not agreeing either.

"Abbi, you really should be outside playing," Mickey interjected. Ian nodded.

"Not while Dad is sick." She turned to look at Mickey, a fierce determination in her eyes. "We take care of each other when someone we love is sick, right Daddy?" Mickey sighed.

"I can take care of him. You should be outside or something." He replied firmly. She bit her lip.

"Please?" She whispered.

Mickey sighed again and retrieved her book bag from the hook by the door and gathered what he had been working on at the dining room table. Who was he to stop her from trying to help Ian? She already seemed to be helping somehow. When he returned to the bedroom, Abbi was curled up beside Ian, one of his arms wrapped protectively around her. Mickey was about to playfully scold about homework when he caught Ian's whispering tone. He couldn't make out exactly what he was saying, but could get the gist from Abbi's replies. 

"How long will you be sad for?... Why aren't the pills working anymore?... Are you going to get new ones?... Why do you need them anyway? Don't Daddy and I make you happy? And Yev? ... But why can't you get up?... I love you, Dad. And Daddy loves you and Yevgeny loves you... I'm going to do my homework now so you can sleep, okay?" She kissed him on the cheek and sat up, Ian's arm falling before he tucked it under himself.

Mickey said nothing, just handed her backpack to her. She accepted it gratefully and dug in, dragging her folders and books out. Mickey slid into Ian's side of the bed and finished paying the bill while Abbi quietly finished her homework.

To Mickey's surprise, they ended up being in that bedroom for a few hours before Abbi finally turned to Ian, kissed him delicately on the head and told him, "I love you Dad. I'm going to go now but I'll be back to bring you some dinner... Just soup, something easy." Mickey's blood slowed in his veins as he took in this wonderful child. She left the door open when she left, bookbag in hand. He turned to his husband who had remained completely silent those few hours. He had turned toward Mickey at some point, his eyes closed as though in sleep. Mickey stretched out beside him and cupped his cheek. Ian's eyes fluttered open at the soft touch. They gazed at each other for a few moments, the light from the living room the only illumination. He ran his hand through Ian's hair again and lightly caressed the back of his neck. Ian looked away.

"I'm sorry..." He whispered. Mickey's heart broke for about the hundredth time that afternoon.

"Don't be." Ian shook his head. "It's alright. Do you want me to make an appointment at the clinic?" He asked. Ian shrugged. "Can't hurt, right?" Ian looked back into Mickey's eyes and stared hard for a moment before finally nodding. "Okay. I'll call in the morning." He scooted in closer to Ian, sliding one arm under Ian's pillow, the other around his waist. Ian slowly wrapped one arm around Mickey's waist too.

"I love you," Mickey whispered against Ian's temple, then kissed him there. Ian buried his face in Mickey's chest.

"I love you, too." Mickey's heart soared in his chest. Hopefully Ian would be back on his feet tomorrow. This was a relatively short lived episode it seemed and Mickey was beyond grateful. He grinned, unable to help himself, and kissed his husband's forehead. 

"I'm going to go get dinner started. We'll see if you feel like sitting up soon, okay?" Ian said nothing again, but Mickey was still so thrilled by the previous progress he wasn't even concerned.

Climbing out of bed he walked back to the kitchen and noticed as he passed through that Abbi was watching TV. 

"You okay?" He called from the kitchen, pulling out a beer and some chicken from the fridge. Abbi entered the kitchen and nodded. "You sure?" She nodded again. He grinned at her. "Okay, it doesn't seem like it but I won't beg." She looked down. He opened the beer and took a swig before washing his hands. "You did great, Abbi. It usually takes a lot longer to get him to say anything at all, and you two had a conversation." She bit her lip and looked up.

"I did?" Mickey nodded at her.

"Yeah."

"Does it happen a lot?" She asked, anxiety thickening her voice. Mickey sighed as he pulled out a knife and started trimming the meat.

"Not anymore." She nodded. "Got any questions? You saw a lot today..." She laughed bitterly.

"I didn't see anything, Daddy. I'm fine. I just... It makes me sad when he's sad." Mickey nodded, washing his hands once again and reaching for a skillet.

"I know. It makes me sad, too." They were silent for a minute, Mickey working and waiting for Abbi to ask something else.

"He told me a little about it... That it's no one's fault and we do make him happy and the medicine doesn't always help and sometimes it needs to change." Mickey nodded. "So, what does he have exactly?" Mickey finished the next step of the process, covering the skillet with a lid and grabbed his beer, leaning against the counter.

"It's called bipolar. When we first got together he got like that only worse. He wouldn't move for a week, his sister wanted him hospitalized... It can get scary, Abbi, that's why I wanted you to play outside today." She looked down.

"I'm sorry... I just couldn't play with Dad like that. I wouldn't have had any fun anyway." Mickey considered that and nodded.

"I get it... Anyway, there are two sides of bipolar. That side," he gestured toward the bedroom, "and a 'manic' side. Mania is when he has superhuman amounts of energy. He never sleeps, gets lots of ideas that seem super doable to him but to everyone around him may seem crazy."

"But Dad isn't crazy." Abbi murmured.

"No, he's not." Mickey agreed firmly. "It took a long time to finally get him to agree to take his meds, but he's finally on them and that's what matters." 

"Dad said sometimes the medicines stop working because the sickness finds a way to go around the medicine, so we have to trick it with a new one." Mickey nodded at that description.

"That sounds about right. He's always been pretty good with medications... in that he doesn't have to switch them a lot... Hopefully you won't have to see that a lot, but... there it is. If it ever does happen again you don't have to stick around. It's really, really hard and I don't want you carrying that around with you." Mickey insisted.

"But I don't want him to suffer alone..." Her voice cracked. Mickey set his half empty beer on the counter and sank to the balls of his feet in a crouch. She raced forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, he wrapped his arms around her too.

"He won't suffer alone. He's still got us. And you don't have to take this on because you're still really young. You leave this to me, okay? Unless you want to. I know it made him happy--as happy as he can be right now-- to have you near him. But, he wouldn't want you to stick around unless you wanted to. I myself can only handle a couple of hours at a time before I have to go do something." She laid her head on her dad's shoulder and nodded. "Don't worry about taking care of him, okay. You worry about being a kid, keep doing good in school, keep being good... and just keep telling him you love him... That's what you can do to help, okay?" She nodded again and squeezed him. He squeezed her back, playfully too hard. She squeaked.

"Argh! That hurt, Daddy!" She cried with a laugh.

"Oh, yeah? I'm sorry!" He picked her up and squeezed her again rhythmically, she letting out gasps of breath that sounded silly and made her laugh. They laughed together until she just hugged him again, her little legs dangling. He set her back down. 

"I love you, Daddy." 

"I love you too, Squirt. Go on and watch TV or something, I got this." She smiled and ran back into the living room. 

xxxxxx  
Ian didn't end up getting on his feet until the day after the next day. It was longer than Mickey had hoped, but he was grateful nonetheless that he got up. 

"I missed you, Ian..." He sighed into his husband's shoulder when he hugged him that morning. Ian ducked his head into Mickey's neck and breathed him in.

"I missed you too." They kissed softly until they heard Abbi's footsteps entering the kitchen.

"DAD!" She cried and ran straight into Ian's legs. He smiled gently at her, still not yet 100% back to normal, and picked her up. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed hard. "I missed you!!" She cried. He held her close, hugging with all his might.

"Thank you for keeping me company the past couple of days... You helped a lot." She shrugged.

"We take care of family, don't we Daddy?" Mickey patted her shoulder. 

"That's right, Squirt." She grinned and rested her head on her Dad's shoulder, refusing to release him.


End file.
